Pulse
by quorra laraex
Summary: All they need is closure to mend what's broken. — Mako/Asami/Korra, "The war's not even close to over," Asami calls out; and Mako knows she isn't talking about Amon.


Pulse

* * *

Her mind is too caught up in the grey mist surrounding all of them. Purely just one of Amon's petty little tricks, an illusion, a mental aberration.

Her thoughts leave the distracting haze as she faces numerous amounts of equalists in front of her. The brothers stand behind her facing opposite directions, getting ready to strike. She hears the cracking of knuckles from her right—Mako, and an encouraging 'Let's do this!' calling from her left, Bolin. A grin attempts to creep on her face, but the variations of emotions swelling up in her stomach prevents it from making it to her lips. Asami Sato forces her rough, newly calloused fingers through her hair, letting it fall out of her way before she slips the equalist glove on and fires a glare at the upcoming martyr.

_Breathe in_.

The jolt doesn't only electrocute the victim beside her, but she can feel the tingling sensation. The violence—she's fought, but it's different today, _now_. The way her anger is coursing through her veins as she kicks the chest of an armored man with her heel. It's electrifying.

_Breathe out_.

She prepares herself with a simple dodge and a spiral on the cold cement below them in order to trip the group gathering before her as they aim a wire directly stinging her forearm and another slapping her back as if it was a whip. It ties on her wrist and she directly lets out the anger in her as she pulls her arm backwards, causing the man to come forth her and she doesn't hesitate to plunge her foot against his ribcage.

_Always remember to breathe_.

Today, Asami Sato is a heartless damsel—and in no way would she show a hint of utter distress.

She deflects simple punches and kicks and throws of mechanisms with her flexible stature and abstains from any source of disturbance from her battle. It's easy, she decides. It always was, and she makes a mental note that if she is ever to see her father again after this whole mess (if he was even still _alive_) she would thank him for the self defense training classes she was put through as a child.

_Never waste time on sadness_.

She coldly chokes a man with her electric glove, and as unnecessary it was to crush his neck, Asami shakes off her doubts and works with her nerve, her mind running back to Mako, over and over. The sad part is that it's inevitable. The thought of him can't be helped, it's just _there_. Memories replay in her head as she sweeps her leg into the air into a swift kick in two of their jaws as she disarms the rest surrounding her with a quick snap of her hand when they attack. Basic.

There's around four more equalists ganging up on her, and that's when she hears a muffled yell of struggling. She cocks her head up in unison with Bolin, who's already facing his brother. The unfortunate firebender is on the ground with a single whiff at his back and it's as if he looks at her the exact time she glances at him from where she stands. Their eyes meet for a split second and it's enough time for the Sato to fire a condescending smirk in his direction. She knows exactly how to infuriate him as she averts her gaze and dodges wires thrown at her while knocking her offence out cold. With every hit she makes, she secretly persuades herself its Mako in front of her. And how glorious the conclusion is as she finishes them off.

She leaps in attack for another equalist battling the stubborn fiery brother only to see his disapproving expression. She smiles at his dissatisfaction and his scowl deepens at her action. It's only a façade, but she's good at lying at the right times, when things are actually necessary, unlike the two-timing bender.

"I don't need your help," he groans as he socks an enemy with a surge of flames, avoiding contact with her devilish emerald eyes.

"I don't need your bullshit," her sweet honey-laced voice doesn't seem to hesitate when she mimics him.

They aren't okay, and in all honesty, will probably never be. He's seen it, the other side of her, that no one else, not even her father and his betrayal could ignite and perpetually trigger in her. Everyone had a bit of ugly in them, and hers is evident now—because of him; because of her sudden epiphany on who really had her heart and cruelly burned it with something other than his hands. True colors are seen in her eyes and she wonders how long it'll take before he realizes he's made the biggest mistake.

Her arm cuts through the air, her hand aimlessly landing on a masked fighter. It activates the spark, shocking the anonymous man to his back along with the rest of the unconscious heap. Mako's throwing patches of fire, bashing several bodies to the floor of the crime while Bolin does his own thing, shaking their ground vibrantly. They're used to his abundance as the war continues. The nonbender handles a grip on one of the men's shoulders and slings above him, missing their hits and calcitrating them without remorse, and she knows Mako watches her knock their rivals out with ferocity in bewilderment.

They're goners.

Mako loosens his clasp and weakens the intensity of testosterone bursting through his arms as Bolin smacks a few more equalists with stone blocks and Asami checks for more utilities latched onto the bodies. They can be used to her advantage.

Their eyes meet and their glares are identical. His orbs soften and his face becomes uneasy. She remains hostile. Her hands wretch into a fist and despite Bolin's enthusiastic yelling about their _badassery_, she can't smile and she doesn't see the point in forcing it. Mako stumbles close to her, and she can tell by the way he parts his lips—those lips, the soft pink beds her own would rest on, and she would feel _okay _and _safe _and _protected_ while they kissed—he can't find the right words to endear her.

He's a step away from embracing her and telling her he didn't mean to hurt her, but she intrudes then, angered by how unfazed he is with her emotional suffering. She lifts her ungloved hand and darts her index finger on his chest, pushing him with some force, as her dark, thin brows scrunch indignant to him. Her face leans upward before she whispers, "Don't think we're okay. I'm doing this for Bolin and Korra and none-other, my beliefs."

With that, she pivots herself into the other direction to Bolin.

"The war's not even close to over," she calls out.

And Mako knows she isn't talking about Amon.

—

She's following the earthbender down the corridor absently, thankful to rely on him for mindless conversing to himself and Pabu while her mind clashes continuously. She wants to make it stop, the constant calling of his name and the reminiscing of the days they would spend together. And then she remembers Korra, most likely battling Amon without them at that very moment, who's perfect and spontaneous and successful at capturing his heart without even trying.

She doesn't allow her stern face to change into the emotions she's feeling. It's something her mother taught her when she was merely a young girl, before she began taking her defense classes. She always knew how to make Asami stronger, mentally, of course.

"You're going to go through a lot," her mother began, stroking Asami's raven locks with a brush, Asami doing the same with the wooden doll in her hands. She looked up at her mother with concerned bright eyes. "When you grow up, people are going to neglect you, they're going to be intimidated by you, they will insult, and the worst kinds of people, they are going to deceive you."

The young Sato bit her lip and grunted, confused but prodding for more.

"Never show weakness, Asami."

The memory of her mother always strengthened her, even through the most difficult of times. It helped her when her father broke apart from her, and it most certainly would not fail to help her now. Her face stays sturdy, but inside she's biting at her tongue and demanding for the tears to not fall; not now, at least.

It's ironic how the two most important people in her life are dishonest and betray her like it's nothing and she begins to think she's a horrible judge of character. She should have seen it coming, she could have predicted this to happen, but she didn't focus on anything but the trust she believed they had. She was so stupid, her thoughts tangling inside her and it's hard to swallow. But she knows now, and it'll be a miracle if she can ever entrust her whole heart to someone after being let down again. And she knows she's pathetic for having these recycled feelings and grudges, while he's probably preoccupying his brain about his worries for his real love, the avatar. She ignores him the entire voyage.

Mako notices how quiet she can be while the three of them hurdle up the stairs of Amon's hideout trying to locate _anybody's_ whereabouts. Her heels click against the pavement floors and her hair sways like it normally does when she struts. He wants to talk to her, but he doesn't know how, and the way she diverts her attention to anything _but_ him does not help the situation. Even when he purposely wrapped his arms around Korra in front of her when in hiding, she stayed calm and put, reluctant even. All he wanted was an action from her. How could she act so nonchalant _then_, and act like she hated him now?

He nudges the back of her shoulder and clenches onto it with his fingers, grasping for her attention. She turns to face him as her pace stays the same. She doesn't want to waste time on someone who isn't worth it. She swings her ungloved arm in his direction, pausing right before her hand is about to hit his face.

"Asami, stop," he mutters displeased and slightly begging.

"Stop what?" her voice is slickened with venom and the way her eyes are so hard on his is frightening.

"Why are you so _jealous_?"

The nerve he had to announce such an ignorant comment. She almost electrocutes him. "Jealous? You think I'm jealous right now, and that's why I haven't been talking to you?"

He looks at her with his golden eyes intrigued. They both ignore Bolin's pleading to be quiet.

"You're amazing, Mako," she replied sarcastically.

"What's that supposed to mean?" his hands are sturdily on his hips and Asami rolls her eyes.

"You're double-crossing idiot," the girl states in a direct whisper, and the outline of her eyes narrow as she continues. Her arms fold in front of her. "A cheat, a liar, a dishonest _basta_—"

Bolin interrupts them yelling for the two to shut their bickering for a second as Equalists come heading their way. Damn, she thinks as she activates the glove embracing her hand. She's angry—no, furious. She kicks off the wall and in a swoop her palm catches an equalist right on his stomach while knocking another to the ground. Mako and Bolin easily defend themselves with their bending as they try to find a way out of the inner alley.

"This way," his voice is hollow and echoes in the hallway as he gestures toward a ladder headed toward the roof. He throws a wave of fire at a group of charging minions and dodges a streaming wire as he climbs rigidly on the ladder, which was unfortunately loose.

Bolin follows hurryingly behind his brother, Pabu resting on his shoulder. Once there's enough space for her, she jumps onto the crook, pulling herself upward. It shakes, and a shift in pulse is caused in her chest as the equalists grab at her ankles, ready to shoot her with a jolt of electricity. Fuck, her thoughts shatter abruptly as it pulls her, the ladder shaking back and forth against the stone wall and she has this sudden cautious prediction that she'll fall straight into their hands. She pushes herself forward—she can't die now, especially now. And that's when the pulsing vibration maneuvers onto her calf and it's like her veins are bursting in her leg and all of her knee down feels as if it's on fire. She yelps a cry and tears blur her vision from the sudden pain and she doesn't have the energy to move her left leg upward onto the next step.

Her vision is fidgety and she can't tense her hands any tighter on the latch until someone's arms tug at her own and pull her through the opening in the ceiling. All she sees before her eyes come to a close is the crimson of his scarf as they escape the crowd of nonbenders and seek to somewhere safe.

—

She's knocked out cold, and Mako knows he needs to find a place where she can rest easy without being manipulated. Bolin finds an edgy shaded corner of the roof and Mako sets her down hidden from where they escaped. The opening of the ceiling is covered thanks to Bolin and a blockage boulder. It's temporary, but at least they were safe for the meantime. He plops himself beside her, Bolin the same. They're worried, and they wonder how long it'll be until her Asami comes back. Her breathing is light and her pulse is even lighter, but she'll make it. Mako's sure of it.

Korra's probably in battle, or she's still hiding in Amon's airship, where their nemesis is currently residing in. After the team had busted into his cooperation hideout, Korra stole the armor of an equalist and placed one of the masks on her face before sneaking onto the airship behind a crowd and alas, Amon, himself. Mako attempts to recall everything that had happened just a couple hours before, but all he could remember was his worrying over the avatar who stubbornly wanted to endure alone.

"_It's something I need to do by myself_," she murmured to him, reassuring his doubts. "_I'm ready for this_."

And he couldn't push any further; he could feel her penetrating glare from the back of his head subside as Korra escaped to the roof and into the blimp. He had so much to deal with, and first, (the one and only, feisty) Asami.

He guards her as she sleeps while Bolin keeps watch on the other side of the roof, idly rubbing his temples. Stress engulfs all of them. The firebender sighs, and he can't remove his eyes from the striking maiden. Her breathing becomes heavy, and the tick of her heart courses rapidly in her wrist, which he holds in protection. Her orbs flash open, releasing her emerald gaze on him. The Sato's face stays soft until she peers at her leg and soothes it with her fingers and surrenders a painful moan.

_Breathe in_.

"Are you okay?" It's a stupid question, he realizes after it's out in the air, but he's worried and he doesn't want their bitterness to overcome their friendship. It's something he realized when he heard an agonizing screech coming from her as she struggled climbing up the ladder with the equalists at her feet, shocking her with their weapon.

She doesn't have the strength to fight back as she mumbles, "My leg hurts."

He watches as she massages her calf with a confused expression planted on her face. He wants to help her, to comfort her and make her physically and mentally okay, but he knows that if he gets an approximate amount of inches close to her leg, the ability to throw her electric glove onto him became a likely option, which sat beside her in obvious reach.

"Mako," her voice is quiet, unlike the demon-like tone she had earlier. "You saved me."

_Breathe out_.

Of course he had. He might like Korra, _hell_, who knows—he might even love the damned girl, but Asami—Asami was different. He couldn't exactly comprehend how he felt about her; she was evidently and always will be the perfect girlfriend and the perfect wife and the perfect _everything_, but it's just not what he wanted. He couldn't be honest with her, and he couldn't contemplate whether it was pity or because he loved her, and it became extremely obvious once Korra had been in complete danger.

His guilt eats away at him every striving minute, and he isn't sure what to do or how to fix what's shattered, even when it was his fault to begin with. He ponders on what he can do to attempt to clean what's broken, and the only thing he decides is possible is to tell her what he needs to; what she deserves, an apology.

"I'm sorry."

"You're sorry for saving me?"

"No—no, of course not, I'm glad I saved you, believe me," he rambles. His hands fiddle with the sleeve of his coat until his palm makes it way to the back of his neck in agitation.

She's about to reply cheekily, but she resists. She leans against the edge of the rooftop, looking at the sirens and the chaos going on in the streets of Republic City. Satomobiles circle the roads and equalists surround each and every building. She hopes that things will finally come to an end, in the war, and in her own war. Her focus moves back to the firebender, and their gaze is weak, almost breaking and she lacks the emotional backbone to say a word.

He bites the inner part of his cheek before interrupting the silence, "I'm sorry for everything."

Asami believes him.

Maybe it's how distressed he looks and the anguish replenishing his face that forces her to understand he really did regret what went on, or it's the stuttering of his fingers against the floor and how quiet his voice became or how broken his usual golden and shining eyes looked when he spoke. She couldn't place it, and she knew her guard was probably down from all the pain swirling around making it to the migraine already emerging in her head; but she believed him.

"I forgive you."

It's almost too hard to say, but she has to accept it. There really is no other way. They stare at one another with an assortment of feelings, all clumped in a mess absorbing mutually into something of understanding.

"_Tenzin_!" They hear the earthbender's optimistic voice cheer as the man lands before them onto the center of the rooftop. Mako helps his friend up, but she assures him she'll be fine. A slight limp is evident, but he has faith in her. She'll manage. She follows side by side the brothers to greet Tenzin. Bolin perks, "For Agni's sake, we all weren't sure whether you were alive! Is everyone okay?"

His voice is firm, like always, "Yes, everyone is safe back at Air Temple Island. Lin and I have located where Amon's air ship is headed, and I'm going to need one of you to accompany me. Korra's going to need a friend. The rest of you will stay here with Lin, who'll be using equalist weapons in order to imprison these followers."

Tenzin's orders are always direct, and Asami knows she has to fight and assist Chief Bei Fong anyway, and Bolin's earth bending would come in handy when they're on ground level with all the Amon supporters. She also knows how worried Mako currently is over Korra, and how the urge to see her would relieve him to no doubt. He's in love with her—that she's also aware of. She doesn't blame him.

His glance flickers to her in a silent confirmation, and she nods understandingly. He faces her from then, his hands on her shoulder and a comforting face greeting her. His golden orbs retreat when his eyes close and he kisses her softly on her forehead. "Go get her, Mako," Asami smiles meekly.

He mouths a thank you before joining Tenzin and waving to his brother. "I'll be fine, don't worry guys! Be sure to pumble their asses!"

Her vision is unclear again, but she still can't show any sign of weakness as he flies off with the airbender.

_Breathe in_.

She'll get through this. She always does. There's never any time for sadness.

_Breathe out_.


End file.
